


Aint Love a Trap, Aren't You a Mess

by NeverComingHome



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-01
Updated: 2017-05-01
Packaged: 2018-10-26 04:46:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10779858
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NeverComingHome/pseuds/NeverComingHome
Summary: Spoilers up to, but not including 3.16Harry wants to fix Cisco, but Cisco isn't the one who's broken.





	Aint Love a Trap, Aren't You a Mess

**Author's Note:**

> Contains: Obsession, courtship, noncon/rape, the aggressors' point of view, jealousy

Harry doesn’t want to be this way.

 

Just because some psychotic speedster with a vendetta used his face to establish years of trust doesn’t mean that Harry should take advantage of that. He shouldn’t debase himself by riding on the coattails of another straight into Cisco’s heart. He should be confident with the knowledge that he doesn’t see him as a son or a student, but rather an extraordinary scientist who he considers more of a peer than people he’s studied alongside. And yet, here he is watching Cisco watch HR watch T _he Day The Earth Stood Still_ while they wait for the new fusion guns to cool. HR, who is arguably the furthest one could get from Eboard-Wells as evidenced by his sudden outburst.

“Outstanding! Wow. Their creativity knows no limits.”

“We’re only a few minutes in, dude, chill.”

“Noted, but (can we pause) just take it all in buddy. You. Me. Comfy chairs that spin. Black and white scifi flick. Coffee. You thought of it all. Not one thing missing for the perfect night in.”

“Ay, the only thing I take more seriously than my science is my movies. Give your boy some credit.”

“Indeed. All credit to the boy.” HR leans in, half his teeth showing in a shark like grin that always seems to spook Cisco when it’s on Harry’s face, but on HR’s causes him to wheel himself slowly closer. “All credit to my boy, as you so righteously put it.”

Harry turns off the live feed, drops his tablet on the desk and walks briskly into the main room, commandeering the screen with a few taps and commands. Cisco has already pushed his chair away from HR, but Harry launches into a lecture about goofing off instead of mapping out a better diagnostics systems for the new guns.

“I expect this from Doctor Do Nothing, but not you Cisco. Disappointed. ”

Cisco snatches the controls from him, cheeks pink, “I was already on it buzzkill.”

Harry catches the eye of HR who is smirking openly with arms crossed.

“Stay on it.”

* * *

 

When he dreams he dreams of Cisco’s hair mussed from Harry’s fingers digging into it as he fucks him, he dreams of late nights in the lab passing each other tools and finishing each other’s sentences, he dreams of kissing him before he goes off to battle and knowing he’ll make it home alive because Harry is in his ear guiding his every move. Harry dreams of stitching Cisco back together so they can tear the world apart at the seams for a long look at its innards. He doesn’t dream of anyone else in the picture.

* * *

 

HR has a way of telling stories where people are very obviously laughing at him in a way that makes you think he’s laughing both at them and at himself as well. When Harry was younger, happier, he used to be able to do that too. Cisco for all his initial protesting finds it pretty damn charming apparently. Harry takes up post on a park bench, scanning for the rest of the team who are in position to catch a criminal that splice themselves into progressively tinier versions. They’re the backup plan in case Wally, Jesse, and Barry can’t corral the miniatures and in the absence of any current danger Harry once again finds himself with a front row seat to some of the worst flirting he’s ever seen.

“You know what, nineteen, you’re a weird guy but I give you props for not caring what people think.”

“Oh, for me, but Francisco, my boy on you caring is a gorgeous shade much like that shirt, love that shirt.” He bumps his knee against Cisco’s, “I’d buy it off you but then you’d be topless and I wouldn’t dare risk rousing the interest of every man, woman and metahuman in a ten mile radius.”

Instead of seeing it as the dull ploy that it is Cisco laughs and offers his shirt for HR’s hat. HR flips his hat off and Cisco takes off his screen tee to reveal a white undershirt. HR grins, placing one finger then two and then he’s gripping it and Cisco is licking his lower lip with his knuckles buried into the grass.

 _He’s not yours_ , Harry thinks, unsure if the thought is meant for himself or HR. Cisco can damn well kiss whoever he wants and just because this particular person has Harry’s face doesn’t mean...it doesn’t mean….

A miniature runs past and all of them snap into action.

* * *

Much like time, a kiss that is meant to happen wants to happen. There can’t always be diagnostics to run, pipelines to fix, or interrupting tiny thieves and with everything happening Harry can’t be held responsible for not thinking past ‘No’ when he sees HR walk into the office Cisco is in and lock the door. Harry can’t hear what they’re saying because he’s too busy speed walking, throwing open doors until he reaches the one that won’t budge. Instead of using his head and just overriding the security features he rears back his leg and kicks it in. Cisco is leaning against the table with HR bent over him, fingers in his hair, mouth poised on his cheek because the other man has turned his face to glare at Harry.

“Ocupado, bro.”

“I, uh, I needed to talk to you.”

“Right now, for real?”

“Yes, it’s urgent.”

HR tsks, “Far be it from me to minimize this problem, urgent as you say it is, but I do have some very pressing, very sexual in nature matters to discuss with Francisco. Perhaps you’d allow us an hour or so before I turn him over to you. On my earth we’ve cured the refractory period so I would require the full sixty minutes.”

“Get out, I hate you, get out.” Harry tugs at his hair, fearing that someday soon the very presence of HR will cause him to yank it out before he gets the chance to bald.

“I see.”

HR kisses Cisco briefly and edges out of the room. For a moment there’s calm. Cisco, rarely speechless, remains motionless against the desk as Harry approaches him. Maybe he won’t have to speak. Maybe the fog will vanish from Cisco’s eyes and he’ll tunnel into Harry like a train and they can skip the discussion and the angsting and land feet first in the living.

It doesn’t work like that.

Eventually Cisco comes out of it and tells Harry that if he had a metahuman name it would be Captain Cockblock and his powers would be sucking all of the sexual energy out of a room faster than Barry could run a hundred meter race. It isn’t long before they’re both shouting around the problem. First it’s about corny HR with his stupid Earth 19 altruism and then it’s about Eobard and how much he’d be insulted that Cisco was replacing him with such an inferior facsimile when he had close to the real deal right in front of him.

“Is that what you think I want?”

“Isn’t it?” He shouts, but his anger falters when Cisco's seems to shrink into himself, voice softening to barely a husk.

“Wells held my heart in his hand and crushed it, but you think I want another person like that?’

Harry placed a hand on Cisco’s cheek only to have it brushed off. “I didn’t know-”

“Big surprise. You are such a dick. Dr. Wells betrayed us, me, but before that he was my hero. He was always there for me, pushing me to better, telling me I was better. When I look back on my good days with him he reminds me of HR and when I look back on his bad days he reminds me of you.”

Harry grabs Cisco’s shoulders, rubbing his thumbs into the hollows. “I am nothing like him. I will never hurt you. I love you.”

“He loved me too.” He tries to stand up straight. “Let go.”

Harry’s eyes scan over him as if in a daze. “No.”

He doesn’t want to be like this. He doesn’t want to turn into an obsessive monster because Cisco sometimes pushes him in a familiar way when he makes a sarcastic comment; because when someone acts like they belong to you unconsciously it’s hard not to feel like they do. He kisses him hard, biting his lower lip hard enough to break skin but not hard enough to bleed. Cisco balls his fists up, but doesn’t use his powers. His eyes are open all while Harry wraps a hand around his throat and drops to his knees to shove his shirt up and mouth at his stomach and waist.

“Don’t, please don’t do this.”

Harry has watched some old videos. He clears his throat and lowers his voice to the right depth.

“Be still, Cisco.”

* * *

 

When he left, before HR, Cisco told him he’d be the only Harry; he told him that no one could replace him. Words mean things. Promises and vows-they matter. When Cisco comes in his mouth he gasps a name, one of their names. Harry, HR, Wells. Does it even matter which one? All it spells out to Harry is M-I-N-E. When Harry kisses him Cisco kisses back, but his eyes are shut tightly, brimming with tears. He didn't intend for it to happen this way. He thought one night they'd be working and their hands would brush and they'd melt together with only the gentle hum of the machines and their short breaths to fill the silence. They'd get to a bed somehow and Harry would kiss every new scar Cisco didn't deserve before offering up himself like a sacrifice, apologizing for every harsh word and accusation with kisses and moans in the dark. Cisco would've understood him better if it had happened that way, but like the universe Cisco exists in the moment cementing the consequences of Harry's actions even before he's finished. 

"You love me," Harry says, reminding him-telling him.

"Yeah, I do."

And, for all the time he's spent reminding Cisco that he is not Eobard, Harry has never felt more like him than in that moment. 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N:  
> -Title from Water by Jamaican Queens
> 
> -I see now that I love both of these pairings for vastly different reasons


End file.
